Friday Fights
by s. rivers
Summary: Perhaps a walk. But she couldn’t walk; she was drunk. So what now? A romantic drive? Where is this coming from? He can’t tell if it’s the beer or her that’s making him think this way, but he can honestly say it’s never happened before. OddAelita.


**Ah, I know, I haven't written a Code Lyoko story since like…two years ago. Word! Yeah anyway, I was planning on writing this story for a wile, but it all kind of came out, so sorry if it stinks. And I'm also sorry for any typos and whatnot, you know the whole deal.**

**Yeah, it's sort of an Odd Aelita Jeremie kind of thing.**

* * *

Odd loved these days.

Aelita and Jeremie had a fight, on a Friday. Now _this _was his favorite day; not because it was the last day of school before a two-days break, but because Aelita and Jeremie never fought, and especially never fought on **Fridays. **Friday, it so happened, was the day they always went out on dates, to be precise. Rain or shine, they snuck of campus and saw movies or took strolls around the river by the factory.

But not _this _Friday. Oh no, this Friday belonged to Odd.

Aelita had gotten into some interesting habits, some only Odd himself knew about. For one thing, she always took showers at the same time—she'd told him this upfront, not that he needed to know what time she took showers, but it was nice to picture. Another habit she had was typical; chewing on the inside of her lips. Didn't everyone? Except she did it so much she'd have her mouth oozing with blood, described as "tense behavior" from the school nurse, Gloria.

Those were the silly habits she had, biting her lip and having to take a shower the same time **or else.** But it was the other habits only he knew about that were the ones that counted…to him, anyway.

Aelita had a habit of going out anyway if she and Jeremie fought on a Friday. Wile he sulked all night, huddled in his dorm room, she headed out into the town—alone or with friends. She would see a movie, head to the mall, try to forget the argument she'd been in and have a good Friday night. Regardless of what Jeremie wanted.

But she had another.

A very, very, dark, habit.

So Odd headed out that night, excited. He headed to a bar, and with only one flash of his fake-ass ID, he was inside it's limits. The blonde pushed his way through an already wasted crowed and slid into the bar seat. Glancing around quickly, he leaned in towards the bartender and said, "Miller Light, please."

The name was just to remind him that he had to keep it light this time. Sure, he was seventeen, old enough to know what his limit was, but sometimes on nights like this it "slipped" his mind. And he didn't feel like calling Yumi at two in the morning and asking her to let him spend the night at her house instead of driving or walking home, and getting the you-are-such-a-fuck-up speech from Ulrich wile he had his morning hangover.

A hard week at school had happened; him trying to pull up his grades and put up with his constant, nagging girlfriend—who he had thankfully dumped—and surviving his nights with Ulrich, who should listen to the sound of _his _snores before whining about Odd's. So yes, it had been one hard week, and it was time to relax into the hard rock medal of some reject band and slip under the surface with some beer, maybe even a martini or two.

The bar tender over heard him through the racket and thrust him a beer as quick as he could, sending it sliding down the wooden counter and into Odd's hands. It was uncapped immediately and Odd took a long sip, letting it revive his inside and relieve his urge to scream and pound everything that pissed him off in the world to the ground.

He watched people come and go, some wasted coming in and wasted coming out. Friday nights at the bar were always the best; the fun drunken people, the loud music blaring; what was there _not _to love?

Odd had been their for only ten minutes, turning down the offer of drinks a few ladies sent him, when she came in. She looked the same as she always did, except for the fact she had on makeup.

_**Aelita.**_

Aelita wore a spaghetti black tank top, which was rolled up at the edges to reveal her belly ring she secretly gotten last summer. He knew about it, but no one else did, since she never wore belly shirts and wore one-piece bathing suits. He liked it; it made her look sexy and tough, not shy and innocent which is what she came off as.

Her shorts were shorter then possible, revealing tan-ish well muscular legs, and she was wearing flip flops. Her hair was straitened, makeup smoothed onto her eyes, and her lips were bright with tinted lipstick.

She looked hot.

And Odd took another sip of his beer, ice cold and satisfying. Aelita must have spotted him, because she tumbled and shoved her way through the crowed to get to him.

"Odd!" she called, her face flushed and happy when she arrived. He put on his surprised expression and smiled, handing his beer to her as she slid into the stool. She took a long sip and slammed it down on the table, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

"It's so hot in here," she said, out of breath. She chewed on her lip again and looked out back into the crowed.

"Yeah," he agreed. He ordered her another beer wile she was occupied with staring at the crowed.

Aelita finished off his beer, and by the time her next one came she was already slurring her words.

"So, tell me more about this fight," Odd said, helping her balance herself on her stool. She burst into a fit of giggles before her face twisted into a semi-serious grin, then she took a deep breath.

"I wanted to go out here, but he wanted to stay inside and work on his new pc program…so then I said I'd go with Yumi and he got all huffy, like Yumi and I are some kind of lesbians and he was jealous."

"I see. So, you going to get over it?"

Aelita took another swing of beer. "He pisses me off."

She took three sips of her second beer before she slammed her fist on the table and shouted, "I want authority, dammit! I am so sick of having to be so self secure around Jeremie, you know? I want to be wild!"

"Then be wild!" Odd told her.

"He's always telling me how much he cares about me and shit. And his kisses are so gay, like, I feel as if I'm kissing someone from Queer Eye. He tries to do it like they do in the movies, but it ends up being weird and awkward."

"How can you tell, Princess?" Odd mocked. "Kiss a lot of boys?"

"I do," she said. "I kiss everyone."

"I'll bet you do."

Aelita laughed hysterically, her face flushed and her nose running. Odd handed her a thing of napkins and helped her clean the drool forming at the edge of her mouth.

"Your so cute!" she said.

"Why, thank you," he grinned back.

By the time the fourth beer came around, despite her BAL, she was wasted…legally. She spun on her chair, threw her arms out, and laughed as loud as she could.

Aelita was wasted.

Bingo.

It was only a mater of time.

You see, this was why Odd loved Friday nights when Aelita and Jeremie got into fights. Because immediately after the fight, Aelita would _**always **_come out into this very bar and completely trash herself with beer, dance with hundreds of guys, and party it up. And she would also do another thing.

Give Odd the best make-out sometimes sex of his entire life.

Aelita's habit of getting trashed after fights was not all. She had a habit of forgetting everything when she was wasted; she hardly remember coming to a bar in the first place. So through her morning hangover, she would convince herself she never slept and or kissed Odd in her life, and would get on with her very life and forget about wakeup up with her clothes half off and reeking of martinis.

Aelita stood up and grabbed his hands. "Dance?" she asked, her voice with an incredibly cute edge. Odd smirked and let himself be lead onto the dance floor.

In the center of a huge mass of people, there was no one around him he wasn't touching—his back against some cute blonde girl, his shoulder hitting into someone's right side, and at his front was Aelita. This was the thing about dancing he loved; people were always so close and it _wasn't _uncomfortable. It was just everyone, moving together in one big blob of people, trying to match the beat or rhythm of the song. In so many different ways and styles dancing is expressed in, you can only have one in which is yours and yours only.

Odd bobbed his head, and moved his body. Aelita did the same, except her movements were all up against him, her skin soft beneath his touch. She moved through him like silk, and he felt his heart beat and his knees feel weak. He tried dancing more, but instead he ended up almost falling over. Aelita didn't notice; she was too busy moving with rhythm and throwing her head back, shaking her bubblegum hair.

Odd needed to sit down.

It never happened like this; _never. _He always had her after dancing. In the back of his black truck, back in one of the abandon dorm rooms at the end of his hallway. It always happened after dancing. But why this time was he acting so strange? As if he wanted _more _then just sex and kisses. More then that? What could be more then that?

_Love._

Odd nearly fell over again, and this time, Aelita noticed. She turned around and blinked at him, her big green eyes sparkling brightly under the dim flashing lights of the bar. She pressed her back against him and looked up into his eyes, silently pleading for him to dance with her.

But he _couldn't. _Not this time, anyway. He felt strange all over, and it wasn't from the alcohol, he could tell. Aelita must have noticed this because she took his hand and dragged him towards the safety of the outskirts of the mob, her hand gripping his with all it's strength.

"You look sick," she whispered. She leaned her head against his chest, her breath full of alcohol, looking up at Odd.

"I—"

He was out of words. **Far **out of words. He wrapped his arms around her. A dirty unused dorm didn't seem appropriate, as did not the back of his t truck, for tonight. Perhaps a walk. But she couldn't walk; she was drunk. So what now? A romantic drive? Where is this _coming _from? He can't tell if it's the beer or her that's making him think this way, but he can honestly say it's never happened before.

"Let's go somewhere," she says, and smiles as she and him slip through the crowed once more. It is suddenly unbearably hot, and Odd feels every sweaty person he walks by sticking to him like glue, as if beckoning him to say no and stay at the bar. But Aelita drags him outside into the crisp March air.

Odd noticed his truck parked at the end of the street. But Aelita doesn't head towards his truck; she veers right and heads up the street, still holding Odd's hand.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'm just walking."

_More like stumbling._

Aelita turns into a deserted alleyway and spins around. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

"You're not usually this slow."

She pushed him up against the wall. He blinked a few times, surprised, before her lips came crushing down on his. All senses were seized and thoughts were cut short, and he tried to focus on that one tingling sensation on his lips he was giving her, mixed with her own intoxication and desire.

_Come off it, she isn't yours. You can't keep playing this game._

She pressed herself up against him, running a hand through his hair. He wraped an arm around her and kisses her back with all the strength he had, pulling her up closer to him. He wasn't drunk like her, but she made him feel so **intoxicated, **he could hardly stand.

But then something happens. Something he doesn't like.

Odd pulled away from Aelita for a breath, but his lips don't return on her as they are told to do. Instead he stopped, mid-breath, and stared at Aelita as if seeing her for the first time.

Her bubblegum hair, now longer then it had been before, falling past her ears down to her chin. It'd lost it's childhood glow and was now a darker shade, making her look much older. Her skin complexion was pale and clear, so smooth, her lips a natural rosy pink. Her eyes were the best part about her; almost as interesting as her own strange name. The green could be fit into so many places and compared to so many things; the color of grass in the summertime, the forest leaves in the spring, the color of moss. All of them interesting.

She was still smaller then him, but she'd grown up quite a bit. She now wore better clothes then her silly dresses; slinky black shirts and pre-torn jeans. She even had a chest; small but cute.

He'd noticed these things ages ago.

So why, _**why, **_were they just beginning to occur to him now?

She looked bewildered as he held her. "What's wrong? Scared?"

_I can't do this. _

Why?

**Because I want more then what she can offer.**

This was the first time it'd happened. The first time he'd seen her like this, the first time his body felt like this. Odd was used to having feelings for girls, but nothing this intense. Why so sudden? Why _now_? Why ruin his Friday Night Fight date with Aelita, which only happened a few times a year?

Aelita kissed him once more, but this time, he did not respond—he just sat their, her tongue frozen in his mouth. She pulled away, blinking.

"Come _on,_" she urged.

"Aelita…"

It seemed so unfair that she was right here, offering herself, but he just couldn't take her. All because she was Jeremie's, and that was done and said—no questions asked. The pattern had been going on for two years; she gets drunk when they fight, she screws Odd, doesn't remember a thing. That was always how it'd been before, but tonight, it seemed so much different.

Maybe because this time, he wanted her to remember it.

That was it.

He wanted her too think back and remember her doing these things to him. Their kisses, their dancing, their drinking—everything. And the fact that she didn't was always good, like a one night stand, but tonight he wanted more…he wanted her to remember.

But that wouldn't happen, would it? She wouldn't remember drinking and their kissing. She wouldn't remember at all. And tomorrow, when they met each other in the hallway or at a café, she would simply smile and say "Hey, Odd," in the same way she did every single day.

This epiphany was so unbelievably true, it made him feel pathetic and sick at the same time.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything else, Aelita passed out against his chest, leaning onto him for support. With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest and fell into a deep sleep.

Odd was an expert at this part.

With a small pint of regret he lay her down and took out his cell phone. The time read one thirty; they'd been in the bar for almost three hours. With a few quick punches of numbers, the speaker rang.

"Yumi?" he said. "I hate to interrupt, but—"

"Odd, you dick bag! I have to pick you up _now_?" her voice was rushed, irritated, and angry all mixed in one.

"Please. And Aelita?"

"Fine. At the usual?"

"The usual."

Odd flipped his phone shit and looked back down at the past out Aelita. He unrolled her shirt for her and let it cover her belly; it would make things look wrong if Yumi showed up and she was like this.

He felt so much regret. He shouldn't have thought about her that way; that was wrong. She belonged to Jeremie, and even when they fought, that was wrong to take advantage of her and try to pretend it was all just a one-night-stand kind of thing, thinking it was great she didn't remember. What a lie that had been.

Odd wanted more then she would offer. Much more.

And as he leaned against the building, looking up into the faded stars, a drunken pink haired girl by his feet, he cursed himself for ruining his perfectly-planned out night. He cursed himself for wanting more from Aelita then she would bother to give.

He cursed himself for drinking so much.

He had a headache now.

* * *

The next morning, Odd woke bright and early to head out to the café across town. It'd been a custom since as long as he could remember that the five would meet for breakfast on Saturdays, discussing the week that had just gone by and plans for the weekend. Ulrich, understanding by the way Odd had moped around wile getting ready for a shower, left him alone with remarks about his snoring. Odd was irritated today, and it was more then a hangover, he could tell.

As they walked into the café, Ulrich spotted the couple Jeremie and Aelita by the window and waved. Hurrying over, Odd stayed quiet until he was forced to say hello to everyone. With mumbled greetings, he returned his distraction towards the window.

"Hey, Odd," Aelita said in a voice he'd never heard before. His attention snapped back towards her. She cocked her head slowly, giving him a smirk. Jeremie stared at her, confused, before looking at Odd, puzzled. Ulrich could sense and awkward silence, and did his best to revive it; "Hey guys, let's go up and order."

Jeremie pushed back his chair and stood up, fallowing Ulrich, wile Aelita lagged behind with Odd who remained at the window.

Before hurrying to catch up with her boyfriend, she turned back and winked. "Last night was fun. Do it again sometime?"

She turned and hurried to meet Jeremie by the counter.

Odd stood, frozen in disbelief, a strange sensation brewing in his stomach. He couldn't move; he couldn't speak. Had she remembered everything that had happened? She was wasted—four beers was her limit—but what made her remember?

Odd had a feeling that wink meant she remembered more then just last night. All along, had she remembered, but never said anything? Maybe their whole flirty personality towards each other were starting to make sense, after all.

Just then Yumi walked in, dusting the winters cold off of her and hanging her jacket on the back of their tables chairs. "Odd, you look like you just found out your girlfriends pregnant," she remarked, chuckling.

"Something like that," Odd mumbled back.


End file.
